


Better Together

by voguethranduil



Series: she walks in starlight, in another world. [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baby Legolas Greenleaf, Bars and Pubs, Businessman Thranduil, F/M, Fluff, I'll let you decide, I'm Sorry Tolkien, Light Angst, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pies, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Smut, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, Workplace Relationship, brief mention of azog the defiler, honestly, how did you sneak your way in to thrandys heart?, kinda not really?, lets also pretend elvish is a language in this universe ok, mentions of thranduils wife, probably through your good pies and cute dresses, thranduil is a good fucking dad ok, thranduil isn't very good at talking about feelings :///, v v breif, watch me make things up about how investments work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voguethranduil/pseuds/voguethranduil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil Oropherion - CEO of Oropherion Investments - is known throughout the business world to be stoic and cold. He's a man who means business, and won't settle for anything less than what he expects.</p><p>You and your best friend, Arwen Undómiel, are just two girls who know what they want, and have big aspirations for their business. </p><p>So when you land a meeting with Thranduil himself, you get swept up in to a life you only dreamed of. </p><p>From working in a cramped cubicle, to living your dream and catching the admiration of a certain CEO - this is the story about how it came to be.</p><p>[ a modern au ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea in my head, ever since i wrote a thranduil blurb on my other work: love made of stardust! enjoy!

As you smoothed out your dress, you sat on the matte leather seat with your business plan folder in your lap; anxiously tapping your foot. You had been reviewing your plan for days in advance, staying up until ungodly hours, and consuming more coffee than you had in college.

Arwen, your best friend and business partner, lightly nudged your arm, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Keep biting your lip like that, you’re going to get lipstick on your teeth.” She said, as you rolled your eyes and crossed your legs. “Seriously though, relax. Everything is going to be alright.”

You huffed, and tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve actually met the guy.”

Rolling her eyes, Arwen replied,

“For the record, I’ve met him _once._ When I was a _teenager._ He wasn’t that bad!”

You sighed, and leaned back in the seat, letting your head thump against the wall lightly.

“That was like, _eleven years ago._ Plus, he probably wasn’t in business mode! I’ve heard horror stories from people, so _sorry_ if I seem a bit nervous.”

Arwen pulled you forward by the wrist, and scooted to face you.

“If it makes you feel better, Mr. Oropherion owed my father a favor. If this doesn’t work out, we can always go over to Dúnedain Investments.” She explained, as you gave her a small smile.

“Remind me to thank Elrond, and to not let you near Aragorn.” You answered, as Arwen let out a giggle.

“Dad knows you’re thankful, because of the hundreds of pies you’ve sent him. And you _know_ Aragorn would give us an investment.” She replied, giving you a wink at the mention of Aragorn. “Now, lets review the pitch. Don’t forget to mention the location…” She started, as she flipped through blueprints.

The only reason you had the privilege of sitting in Oropherion Investments, was due to Arwen’s father — Elrond Peredhel — who happened to be an esteemed businessman, just like Mr. Thranduil Oropherion. Elrond was in fact, one person Thranduil actually was _friends_ with in the business.

They had met when a man by the name of Azog came to work for Thranduil. Azog seemed to be a good, hard worker: until they discovered, he had been stealing thousands of dollars from Oropherion Investments, and even money from Thranduils personal bank account. Thranduil quickly hired the best lawyer, who happened to be Elrond.

Elrond built a bulletproof case against Azog, and ate him alive during the trial hearing — earning Azog thirty years in jail; on two counts of embezzlement, and as it came to surface, one count of illegal drug trading.

Ever since that, Elrond and Thranduil had been friends. The only reason Arwen had met him once, was due to the fact that she’d been traveling abroad; and met Thranduil whilst he was over at their house for drinks. (She had been extremely jet lagged, and managed a wave before she went up to her room.)

Now, the reason being Thranduil owed Elrond a favor, was a mystery to Arwen and you. Elrond didn’t go in to specifics, only giving the two of you a sly smile, and Thranduils card. You would’ve beleaguered your best friends father, but you were too focused on the fact that he had _recommended_ Arwen and yours business idea, to one of the most _powerful_ men in the investment business.

So, that’s how you ended up in the large scale building — scrutinizing every detail of your plans, next to your best friend. Your nerves were at a peak, and Arwen knew that. And she knew that you needed to focus on your pitch, and clear your head. So, to take your mind off of your nerves, she easily got you reviewing the pitch.

As the two of you reviewed, the clicking of heels and the sound of a woman clearing her throat, caught both of your attention. A tall woman, with autumn hair and a clean suit smiled down at the two of you, holding a clipboard to her chest.

“Arwen Undómiel and (y/n) (y/l/n)?” She asked politely.

The two of you stood up, and gave your award winning smiles.

“That’s us!” You answered, holding out your hand for her to shake. She took your hand, and shook yours. Arwen did the same, as the woman wrote something down on her clipboard.

“My name is Tauriel, secretary to Mr. Oropherion. If you ladies will follow me, I’ll lead you to the board room.” She introduced, as she began to lead the two of you to the elevator.

In the elevator, she gave a brief history of Oropherion Investments, and asked about your business pitch. When Arwen told her, she smiled and told you guys she thought it was a great idea. When the elevator got to the top floor, she led the two of you to the board room, which overlooked the city. It was a typical board room: a large oval table was placed in the middle of the room, surrounded by leather swivel chairs. In the front, was a projector and a screen. You looked at Arwen and saw that she had the same expression as you: awe.

“If you’ll have a seat at the end, I’ll go fetch Mr. Oropherion and his associates.” Tauriel commanded politely, as she set down two glasses of water in front of your seats.

As Tauriel began to take her leave, she paused in her steps by the door. Looking up at the two of you, she felt it in herself to give the two young women before her a fair warning.

“Ladies, just a little heads up — Mr. Oropherion hasn’t been in the, _ahem,_ best of moods, come of late.” Tauriel started. “I would hate to see two bright women such as yourselves be hurt, so just be careful. Don’t take things too personally. I’ll be back shortly, with Mr. Oropherion. Good luck, ladies.”

As Tauriel took her leave, you swiveled your chair to face Arwen, who looked a little shocked. You could tell as she looked at you, that she tried to quickly calm herself. I mean, one of you had to be calm — because you on the other hand, looked absolutely _mortified._

 _“_ Arwen?” You managed out, after a tense moment of silence.

“Yeah?” She tentatively answered.

“We are completely, and utterly, _fucked.”_

At that, Arwen attempted to pull herself together, and took several deep breaths. Placing her hands on her shoulders, she said,

“C’mon (y/n), take a deep breath. Do. Not. Freak. Out.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, and tried to control your breathing _and_ anxiety, which seemed to be boiling over inside of your head. You were nervous beforehand, but now that it was _confirmed_ that he was in a bad mood, your nervousness was taken to a whole new level. At this point, you were readying yourself for a huge fat denial. Hell, you were ready to be humiliated to the point of wanting to change your name and fly to a new country. You and Arwen were about to have your own horror story about Thranduil Oropherion, and you sure as hell were ready to accept that fact.

“Arwen, we’re practically committing career suicide! There’s _no way_ I can lose this deal. I’m not going back to working at that shitty editing firm!” You panicked, as Arwen furrowed her brows, and bit her lower lip. You knew that look all too well. It was the look she wore when she was attempting to stay calm.

“Do _not_ give me that look right now, Arwen! We need to leave right now!” You spat, as she stood up, taking her laptop out of her backpack.

“There is no way I’m letting you leave, (y/l/n). We’ve been putting together this pitch for a year and a half, do _not_ give up now!”

Before you could retort with a comeback, the black double doors opened, and in walked the man himself — dressed in an expensive pinstripe suit, dark green tie tucked neatly in to the blazer. His blonde hair was almost white, and as he strode no hair seemed to be out of place. His height made him even more daunting, as he was nearly a good head taller than you. (You were even wearing heels, you could barely imagine him _without_ your heels on.) His jaw was tight, as if he had just been previously bothered with an annoying inconvenience.

Next to Thranduil, stood a man who was a few centimeters shorter than the CEO. Half of his dark hair was tied back in a tiny pony tail, and he was clad in a navy suit. This, could only be Bard Bowman — CFO of Oropherion Investments. Bard had a softer look on his face, as he walked in. You had done some research, and found that he was known to be kind and open to new business ideas. You thanked the stars, that he had taken an interest in your pitch.

You shot up from your seat, and Arwen quickly made her way to stand next to you. Wiping your clammy hands on your dress, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, as Thranduil spoke.

“Good afternoon, ladies. It’s nice meeting you once again, Miss Undómiel.” He started, voice dripping with a deep, english accent. He held out his hand and shook Arwen’s hand, who smiled sweetly and gave him a polite greeting. Thranduil then turned his gaze towards you, those light blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. Thranduil looked at you, and exuded a vibe that was either curiosity, or apathy. You weren’t quite sure which one it was, and you didn’t know if you wanted to find out.

“And I presume, you’re Miss (y/l/n)?” Thranduil continued, holding out his hand for you to take.

“I am!” You replied, taking his hand in yours. He had a strong handshake, you noted. “It’s truly an honor, Mr. Oropherion.”

Thranduil retracted his hand from yours, as he gave you what seemed to be a forced smile. Your gulped nervously, but maintained a calm facade as Thranduil turned to Bard, and introduced him.

“This, is Mr. Bard Bowman. He’s my CFO, and will be advising me today.”

Bard gave you each a warm smile, and shook both of your hands.

“I’m looking forward to hearing your pitch.” Bard said, as he straightened out his jacket.

Bard shifted slightly, to look at Thranduil. Thranduil cave a curt nod, and the two strode over to the other side of the table. A handful of other men in suits made their way in swiftly, and took their seats.

“Alright, let’s get started ladies. I don’t have all day.” Thranduil spoke, voice carrying through out the room.

Arwen gave you one last encouraging smile, before turning on the powerpoint, and nodding towards you. Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and began your pitch.

“Arwen and I, have had a dream — ever since we were young sophomores in college, majoring in business. We had a dream, to bring our love of pies, bars, and live music to this city…”

Your pitch, that Arwen and you created, was a not only a bar — but a live music bar, where you could not only enjoy alcohol and music, but fresh slices of pie; compliments of your families secret recipes. Ever since you were a little girl, your grandmother and mother always showed you their way around baked gods; specifically, the art of making the perfect pies. They had taught you everything you knew about baking pies, from making the dough from scratch — to knowing how to peel an apple under a minute. So when you reached your teens, you had practically mastered the art. You like being modest, but you do like bragging about the several competitions you won.

Arwen, had been your best friend from college, and her specialty was mixology. That girl knew how to make _killer_ drinks, let me tell you! It had to be fate, when the two of you became roommates. In your entrepreneur class, you both were partners, and had to create an independent business.

And thus, _The Pie Bar_ was born.

You both designed it to be a place, where people could come and enjoy home-style pies, and one of a kind drinks: all while enjoying their friends company, listening to euphonious local bands playing. It was meant to be a place, where people could come together and dowse themselves in nostalgia, whilst creating new memories! Arwen distinctively remembers the day when _The Pie Bar_ earned an A+, and she remembers how bright the lightbulb in her head shined.

You both made a promise, that if you both had nothing going on after graduating, _The Pie Bar_ would become a reality, and not just another dusted dream on a shelf. So four years after you both graduated, you both had decided that working in a small cubicle wasn’t what you wanted. You both wanted to work with each other, doing what you love.

As you explained this to Thranduil and his employees, Arwen ran the slideshow, pictures of blueprints being shown. There were also several pictures of your pies, and several of Arwen’s drinks.

Several of the men commented about how good the pies and drinks looked, but Thranduil remained unmoved with his stoic expression. You, on the other hand, began to feel the nervousness dissipate from within yourself. Whenever you began on something that you were obviously passionate about, nothing could stop you from talking about it. And when it came down to _The Pie Bar,_ it was the epitome of your goals and dreams. So you barely even noticed Thranduil’s attitude, just continuing on with your pitch.

As you neared the end of the pitch, Arwen asked if any of the men had questions. She answered the typical ones, such as pricing and deadlines. (She was always so good about answering questions, usually because she had double checked the facts and pricing before she came in.)

You occasionally glanced at the CEO during the questioning, and noticed that he almost looked _bored._ He was lounging in his chair, with his hands folded in his lap. He was coming off rather _rude,_ at the moment, which made you a little angry.

“Any more questions, gentlemen?” Arwen sweetly asked, looking around the room.

“Yes, if I may.” Thranduil replied, sitting up straight. Arwen nodded, urging him to ask. “Every day, we have a multitude of people come in; who are _exactly_ like the two of you,”

You heard Arwen gulp. You could tell, her normal charm wasn’t going to work on Thranduil.

“They come in, and attempt to convince me that their business is _phenomenal,_ and that they have high hopes of creating a chain. So how, exactly, are the two of you ladies _different?_ Why should we even give you a chance?” Thranduil finished, voice dripping with authority.

Frankly, you had had _enough_ of his cynical attitude. So, before Arwen could even speak, you threw the filter out of your head, and let yourself speak your mind.

“We’re different, Mr. Oropherion, because that’s the _exact opposite_ of what we want to accomplish. We aren’t in this for the money, or accolade like the others are,” you stated fiercely, taking Arwen aback. “We’re in this to bring back originality to this city, and the sense of nostalgia to people who crave it! You should give us a chance, because we came here today with the hope that we could bring back something _new_ to this city.”

At your words, the CEO almost looked _impressed._ He tilted his head to look over at Bard, who leaned in and listened to what Thranduil was muttering. The silence was tense — as if no one had ever _dared_ to speak so freely in front of Thranduil.

“Please, _please,_ consider us, Mr. Oropherion. We’re willing to come to any terms you put in front of us.” You finally added, your chest feeling as if it was going to burst.

He just tilted his head, his gaze unfaltering — as he stared you down, almost as if he was calculating something. It had to have been the longest minute of your life, the situation being so intense, that a you could hear a pin drop.

“If you’ll give my associates and I some time, I’d like you to wait outside while we discuss and deliberate.” Thranduil finally commanded, as you heard Arwen let out a shaky breath of relief. Within seconds, Arwen had unplugged her computer from the projector, and you had gathered up the papers. Tauriel came in, and escorted the two of you out in to the waiting area outside the room.

“Holy _shit_ , (y/n).” Arwen squeaked out, after the two of you had completely digested what just happened.

“I… I’m so sorry, Arwen. I just couldn’t let him act—“ You started, before she cut you off.

“No no, that was _amazing!_ I’ve never seen anyone stand up to someone as powerful as him before!” She praised, as you let your head fall in to your hands.

“What if I just fucked it all up, though?!” You thought out loud, running a hand through your hair. “He could be in there, roasting me for my disrespectful attitude! I probably even jeopardized his friendship with your dad!”

“Darling, calm down! We just need to hope for the best. The worst part is over, all we can do now is cross our fingers!” Arwen explained. “Now, how about we get your mind off of this, and talk about how Aragorn e-mailed me, the other day.”

You were thankful for Arwen, because she knew how to get your mind clear. (Besides, you _had_ to know about Aragorn!)

* * *

 “With all due respect, Mr. Oropherion, please take in to consideration that we do have at least four other pitches to consider.” Bard commented, as Thranduil sent Tauriel down, to print out contracts.

“That we do, Bard. But I want _them.”_ Thranduil replied, calmly.

Bard sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bard _really_ didn’t want to bring up the fact that Arwen was Elrond’s daughter, because that would make it personal. And Thranduil,was a stickler for ethics — which made it a little strange, to see him break a ethical code.

“Mr. Oropherion, does this have to do with Elrond being Arwen’s father?” Bard questioned, as Thranduil just sighed.

“It is true, that I owed her father a favor. But I can assure you, that this business deal isn’t one out of a debt,” Thranduil explained, as Tauriel came in with the contracts. He uttered a thank you, before turning his attention back to his CFO. “this investment is one out of logic. This city does need some individualism, as Miss (y/l/n) stated. And if they prove to be successful, my company could profit greatly from them.”

“And if not?” Bard pressed, still feeling uneasy about Thranduil’s sudden interest in the two young ladies, outside of the door.

“Then we pull away, and leave them to go to someone incompetent.” Thranduil replied instantly, as if the answer was simple.

Shrugging, Bard leaned back in his chair, and folded his hands across his lap.

“If you see this as the right decision, I will stand behind you.” Bard said, as a small smirk played upon Thranduils lips.

“Tauriel, bring them in. Call in our lawyers. I want this deal to be closed by the end of the day.” Thranduil ordered, a hint of amusement laced in his voice.

* * *

 You and Arwen were of course nervous, after you were called back in only after fifteen minutes. You were greeted to the sight of two extra men, who held briefcases. Thranduil motioned for the two of you to sit, as you mentally prepared yourself to be called out for your rude behavior.

“I think you’ll be happy to hear, that Oropherion Investments would be proud to invest in your company.” Thranduil announced. Your hand seemed to have a mind of its own, as it latched on to Arwens; squeezing hard, earning a squeeze back. You both grew smiles on your faces, as you tried to fight off the feeling of jumping up and down with glee.

“We cannot begin to thank you enough, Mr. Oropherion!” Arwen exclaimed, as Thranduil smiled at her sentiment.

“Now, now. Let’s not get to excited to begin with. We still have the paperwork to handle, before we can get started on the project.” He stated, with no real venom behind his words. You noted that he looked more relaxed, as when you started — he seemed tense.

“I had Tauriel call in your lawyers. Now, we’ll get to singing the contract when your lawyers arrive, which should be shortly. For now, I’ll let Mr. Bowman take over.”

Bard cleared his throat, before he explained the rough draft of the financial plan.

Oropherion Investments was willing to split the profit between Arwen, and you. Oropherion Investments would get 40%, whilst Arwen and you, both got 30%. Oropherion Investments also was starting your budget out at 100,000, and is giving you a nine month long deadline. You nearly fainted, because this was the _best_ case scenario.

As he continued on with his financial plan, you were oblivious to the fact that Thranduil would let his gaze rest on you, for short periods of time. You, somehow, had managed to catch his interest. When he met you before your pitch, you — like everyone else — seemed so intimidated by his presence, and wouldn’t dare to stand up to him. But that all seemed to change, when you began talking about your pitch. The way you spoke seemed effortless, as you allowed yourself to open yourself up to the men before you. He could tell, that you were very passionate about this. And that was confirmed, by the way he tested you. Your answer was exactly, what he’d been looking for. He didn’t need time to think, he wanted this business. It was a refreshing, new idea that _would_ bring originality to the city.

Thranduil had to admit, these past few weeks, had been an utter _wreck_.

It seemed as if people were growing desperate these days, coming to him with business ideas that would _never_ work out. Pitch after pitch, Thranduil denied every single one he deemed unsuccessful. Bard, his CFO and friend, sought out ones he thought Thranduil would take on, to find a project that would ease the amount of stress he was under. It took Bard all of his might, to even get Thranduil to consider the other businesses, before Thranduil arranged this particular pitch.

Thranduil, had been in this business long enough to recognize a successful pitch when he heard it. And the way you and Arwen presented this pitch, he knew from the get-go, that it would be successful. So with a new project to ease his stress, he made a vow to himself; to make sure that _The Pie Bar_ would be a success.

Once your lawyers arrived, they sat down and read through the contract with the two of you, making sure that this contract was legit and that there were no issues. (which, of course there weren’t.)

“Alright ladies, I see nothing wrong with this contract,” Your lawyer stated, as he stood up with his briefcase. “Congratulations, ladies.”

Looking at Arwen, you bit your lip and smiled; this was really it! You were _really_ going to start this! Your lawyer shook hands with Thranduil, and his men, before taking his final leave.

Thranduil leaned over the table, signing the contract. You couldn’t help but watch how his long fingers, gripped the pen with such ease. You had seen photoshoots of him in magazines like _Forbes,_ but _damn —_ those pictures were nothing compared to the real thing.

Straightening his back, he once again, smoothed out his blazer — must be a habit — and looked at you and Arwen with a small smile, sliding the contract towards the two of you. Arwen took the pen eagerly, signing her name in her big cursive lettering. Giving an airy laugh, you took the pen from her, and signed your name in neat cursive next to hers.

The next moments seemed to be a blur, as the men gave you a small cacophony of applause, as they all approached you and shook your hands, giving you words of praise and accolade. You could barely contain the smile on your face, as you beamed and thanked everyone. The last person to shake your hand, was the CEO himself. As Arwen busied herself discussing something with Bard, you felt your heart speed up as Thranduil approached you. Tucking one hand in his pocket, the other reached out towards you, as you took his strong hand in yours.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. Oropherion!” You exclaimed, making him smile down at you.

Pulling away, Thranduil stuck his hand in his other pocket, maintaining eye contact.

“It’s a pleasure, Miss (y/l/n),” He started, as you picked up your folder from the table. “You showed something in there, that is rare to see.” He added, which made your heart nearly stop. Subconsciously, you bit your lower lip; causing his gaze to falter, licking his lips at your action.

“What would that be, might I ask?” You mused.

“Authenticity.” He stated.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you looked down at your feet modestly, before bringing your head back up; a small smile hinting at your lips. Before you could say another word, Arwen laid a hand on your shoulder, moving to stand next to you. Grin plastered on her face, she beamed at Thranduil.

“Once again, thank you Mr. Oropherion. We cannot thank you enough for this opportunity!”

“I’m looking forward working with the two of you.” Thranduil responded, as he smiled softly at Arwen.

“We’ll see you next week, Mr. Oropherion!” Arwen exclaimed, as you two finally gathered up your things. Turning to you, Arwen’s smile turned in to a smirk, as she added, “But as of five minutes ago, a bottle of champagne is awaiting us, with our names on it!”

As you bid the CEO a farewell, you looked over your shoulder as Arwen and you were walking out, catching a glimpse of him staring back at you. Whipping your head around, you felt giddy and excited.

This was actually happening, and the only way to go from here was _up._

* * *

 About a week and half after the first meeting, _The Pie Bar_ had officially taken up residence in a spacious building, in the heart of the city. Of course, it had been very expensive — which had caused Thranduil himself, to come and inspect the building: to see that if it was worth upping the budget. You’ll never forget how you nervously chewed your nails, watching him silently walk about with his tablet in his hand. Arwen was just as nervous, but confident. It wasn’t until Thranduil placed his ray-bans on his face, and simply stated,

“Buy it. We’ll raise the budget.”

You and Arwen let out a silent cheer, as you watched him walk out of the building.

Two weeks after that, the contractors began their work, under yours and Arwens supervision.

Arwen, had taken it upon herself to construct the menu of drinks. She usually sat at an old card table and flimsy chair, in the back, with her headphones in; making new drink recipes, and sketching out little drink menus. You, being preoccupied with the aesthetic of your bar, usually hung around the construction crew; giving them descriptions of how you wanted things to be.

The man who oversaw the construction — Thorin — was a kind man, who ran the business with his nephews. (Those two, were _trouble,_ let me tell you.) He enjoyed your company, and he appreciated how you knew what you wanted. He also appreciated how dedicated you were — staying late after Arwen left, hunched over the card table, sketching logos.

It wasn’t until Kíli noticed something. He noticed, that you were spending more time here than at your _actual_ home. Needless to say, he had become your friend — and he was concerned a little. So when he brought it up to Fíli, they decided to bring it up nonchalantly.

As Fíli was sanding down some wood, and you were deciding paint colors, he asked casually,

“Darlin;, it’s nearly ten! Don’t ya’ wanna go home and get some shut eye? You’ve been here for nearly a day’n’half.”

You ran a finger through your hair, looking up at him. Giving him a somewhat uneasy laugh, you set down the paint swatches, and leaned back in the flimsy chair.

“Well… ever since I quit the editing firm to pursue this, I’ve been really tight on money. Had to move in with my sister, and her two kids.” You started, as Fíli paused to sit next to you, taking a swig of water.

“Needless to say, her house is never quiet! I can never think properly. But when I’m here, it just seems to help me think.”You explained, as Fíli listened.

“Y’know, the space up above here is for rent.” He suggested lightly. “I could see ya’ up there, apron and all.”

Chuckling, you realized that if you actually moved up there, it’d make your life a little easier! Resting your hand on Fíli’s, you smiled gratefully.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

Fíli shrugged and smiled, as Kíli yelled from the back, _I’m the better brother!_

* * *

It only took three days for you to settle in to your new home, above _The Pie Bar._ Arwen had eagerly helped you move your things in, telling you that she thought it was good that you got your own place — and that it was even better, being above the bar!

“(y/n), I admire your work ethic, I really do,” Arwen said one day, as you both sat in the construction area, working on interior designs. “But you’re burning yourself out!”

“I am so not!” You argued, as Arwen scoffed.

“Oh c’mon, your hair argues other wise.” She snorted, gesturing to your hair. “When was the last time you showered?”

Throwing a pen at her, she laughed hard, even causing Fíli and Kíli to snort. They earned a pen to the back, as well!

“Jerk!” You retorted, hiding a smile.

Standing up, Arwen grabbed your wrist, pulling you up with her.

“C’mon peanut, you’re going to shower and I’ll make us some killer martinis.” She ordered, already making her way upstairs to your apartment.

* * *

With your hair tied up in a towel and an apple martini in your hand, you and Arwen sat on your small couch watching re-runs of Full House. As you Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky dance at their wedding, the small ding of your phone caught your attention. Swiping the home screen, you nearly choked on your drink. It was an e-mail, from Thranduil.

 

**From: thranduilceo@oropherioninvestments.com**

**To: (y/n)(y/l/n)@thepiebar.com**

**Subject: Progress**

 

**Dear Miss (y/l/n),**

 

**Seeing as it is coming on a month of construction, it has come to my attention that I haven’t seen the progress for myself. I will be stopping by tomorrow afternoon, to check in on things.**

**I’ve also been told that you have been overworking yourself. See to it that you take care of yourself, as well as your business.**

**See you tomorrow, 12 o’clock sharp.**

 

**Thranduil Oropherion, CEO**

 

“Arwen!” You exclaimed, hitting the side of her stomach, causing her to wince playfully. “Thranduil just e-mailed me, did you get one?”

“I don’t know, let me check!” She replied, checking her e-mails. She raised a brow, and added, “Hmm, seems he only e-mailed you. Let me read!” Grabbing your phone, her mouth fell slightly agape at the last part.

“(y/n), I cannot believe what my eyes just read!” She announced dramatically, as you chuckled.

“What?!”

“It seems to me, that the big bad CEO, just showed _affection_ towards you!” Arwen explained, wiggling her eyebrows. You just rolled your eyes, and threw your legs over her lap, causing her to grunt.

“You, have had one to many glasses, my friend.” You objected, letting your head fall back against the armrest. You pretended to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Plus, we’ve only met a handful of times. Barely enough time to show affection.” You added, softly.

“Alright (y/n), serious question.” Arwen deadpanned, taking a sip of her drink. “Would you sleep with him?”

That earned Arwen a smack to the back of the head, causing her to howl with laughter. Feeling suddenly lightheaded from the alcohol, you held your phone in your hands — staring at a blank email, not sure what to type back.

Was he really showing affection? It would seem extremely out of character for him, seeing as he was quite often laconic with you. He did have a dry sense of humor, but in a good way. More often than not, he’d slip in something humorous to your conversations — you not understanding until later, laughing quietly to yourself.

Thumbs dancing around your screen, you decided to type in whatever came to mind.

 

**From: (y/n)(y/l/n)@thepiebar.com**

**To: thranduilceo@oropherioninvestments.com**

**Subject: Re: Progress**

 

**Dear Mr. Oropherion,**

 

**I’m a little curious to who told you I was overworking myself. I’m a big girl, Mr. Oropherion. You needn’t worry about me.**

**Looking forward to seeing you.**

 

**(y/n)(y/l/n), Almost CEO**

 

Pressing send, Arwen nearly spit out her drink from laughing at how you ended the e-mail. It wasn’t even ten minutes, before you received a reply. 

 

**From: thranduilceo@oropherioninvestments.com**

**To: (y/n)(y/l/n)@oropherioninvestments.com**

**Subject: Re: Re: Progress**

 

**“Work hard in silence, let your success be your noise.” — Unknown.**

**You’re halfway there, (y/n).**

 

**Thranduil Oropherion, CEO**

 

You tried to hide your blush from Arwen, who was teasing you relentlessly.


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry Mr. Oropherion, but the nanny had a family emergency.” Tauriel informed her boss, as Thranduil sat at his desk. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thranduil sighed.

“Is there any possible way the carpool could take him home?” Thranduil questioned. “I have a meeting at noon.”

“The daycare requires payment at the beginning of the year for the carpool service.” Tauriel answered.

Standing up, Thranduil grabbed his ray-bans and jacket, as Tauriel let out a small laugh.

“Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, please. Looks like I’ll be picking up Legolas.” Thranduil announced, as he made his way out of his office.

With only fifteen minutes to twelve, Thranduil made haste to get the parking lot. _The Pie Bar_ was fifteen minutes away, if there was no traffic. Legolas’s school was twenty, with no traffic. Thranduil, was a stickler for schedules. This minor inconvenience was a little bothersome, because for some odd reason — he’d been actually _wanting_ to see you. No matter how hard he tried to shove thoughts of you aside, he always found himself thinking of you.

Thranduil couldn’t help but to feel guilty, whenever he did.

It had been almost three years, since his wife had died.

Three years, of feeling helpless and alone.

She was just taken from him so _suddenly._

She had taken Legolas, at the time, two, to go run some errands. All they were to do, was to shop and come back. When she was getting some money from the bank, Legolas on her hip, a man in a mask had fired two shots in to the air, sprinting towards her register. As the man laid his hands on her and demanded money, she did what she had to do to protect her son. She kicked the man, and tried to make a run for it, with Legolas. But she came to a halt, when a bullet lodged itself in her back.

Thranduil will never forget scooping his shrieking son up in to his arms at the coroners, as he watched the mortician drag a white sheet over her body. It seemed as if his heart was physically ripped out of his chest, and thrown in to that room with his wife.

From that day, Thranduil Oropherion went from being known as joyful and optimistic, to closed off and stoic. He vowed to himself, that he would never love anyone in such a way again.

If he never had Legolas, Thranduil figured he would have coped in worse ways. Legolas was the only part of her he had left, and he had to be strong for his son. It was what she would’ve wanted. So after the initial mourning passed, he devoted as much of himself as he could to be active in Legolas’s life.

And that meant, not letting himself get attached to anyone romantically. The love he gave to his wife, was something that he couldn’t find in himself again. It was something pure and rare, made of starlight.

So that’s why he was confused, at how he felt about you.

You were different. You had a spark of passion in yourself he had not heard of or seen before, and you had a certain fierceness in your personality that made him drawn to you. It was in the way you spoke, letting yourself get lost in your own words and thoughts. You were _exquisite._

Picking up his cell phone as he drove, he dialed your number, to call and tell you that he was running late. After a couple rings, your voicemail answered. He left a quick message, explaining the situation and how he’d be running late.

Pulling up to Legolas’s daycare, he got out of his expensive car, and leaned against the hood. A smile came to his lips, as he saw his little boy, light up with pure joy. Legolas ran as fast as his legs would take them, in to his fathers arms.

“Ada!” He shrieked with joy, as Thranduil threw him in the air. Holding his son, Thranduil pressed a kiss to his sons temple, as he helped him shrug his small backpack off.

“How was your day, kiddo?” Thranduil asked, voice going a little higher in pitch. As he set Legolas down in the booster-seat, Legolas eagerly began sputtering off about his day, and how Gimli played tag during playtime. Thranduil got in to the front seat, and continued to listen to Legolas spiel about his day. Thranduil couldn’t help but smile the whole time, at Legolas. He was always so preceptive of his surroundings, which made for good goofy stories.

As Thranduil and Legolas arrived at the construction of _The Pie Bar,_ Thranduil turned off the car, and adjusted his mirror to look at his son, who was playing with his stuffed superman toy.

“Iôn, Ada has to go talk with a lady for work. You’re going to come with me, alright?” He said softly, as Legolas gave him a toothy grin.

“Can I bring Superman with me?” Legolas asked, which cause a low chuckle to come from Thranduil.

“Of course, Legolas.”

With that, Thranduil checked one last time at the clock — it was only twenty-five minutes past twelve. Hopefully, you weren’t too angry with him. He’d be angry, at the unprofessionalism, if someone did this to him. But maybe if you saw Legolas, you wouldn’t mind.

Thranduil started to carry Legolas, but Legolas objected, squirming and saying how he wanted to walk. So Thranduil put him down, but warned Legolas t _hat he had to hold Ada’s hand, if he wanted to walk by himself._ Walking in to the building, the smell of wood was strong, and so was the chatter of the constructors. Resting his ray-bans on his head, he cleared his throat loudly; alerting the construction workers of his presence.

Immediately, the three men stood up from their work, and smiled warmly at Thranduil. Thranduil knew the Durins well, they were some of the most talented men he knew when it came to architecture. Thorin, and his father Thrain, had even helped design his company building. He always trusted them to do a good job, and it was only natural that he hired the best of the best to work on _The Pie Bar._

“Thorin, wonderful seeing you again.” Thranduil greeted, shaking the mans hand. Thorin returned the gesture, and set his hands on his hips.

“Good to see you too, Mr. Oropherion. Man, your son is getting tall!” Thorin commented, causing Legolas to latch on to Thranduils leg, hiding from Thorin. They all chuckled, as Thranduil greeted Fíli and Kíli.

“Seems as if the woman of the hour, isn’t here?” Thranduil commented, as Thorin cracked a smile. “Something funny?”

Thorn just shook his head, as he let out a laugh. “Typical (y/n). She’s been running around with her head cut off all morning, going off about meeting with you. Wasn’t until Arwen came along, and shoved her upstairs.” He explained, as Thranduil raised a brow in confusion.

“Upstairs?” Thranduil questioned.

“Yeah, she moved in to the apartment up above, last month.” Fíli answered. “You can probably go up there, and meet with her.”

Thranduil shrugged, and asked the young man to point him in the right direction. He hoped you were okay, because when he spoke with Elrond on the phone a week ago, he mentioned something about you being anxiety-ridden in high school.

Thranduil walked in to the back, and picked up Legolas — much to his objections — and rested him on his hip, whilst he climbed up the stairs. Reaching the top, Thranduil could hear the sound of music playing, and the soft tune of your voice singing along with it. Knocking on the door, he heard several thumps, and the music being shut off. He could’ve sworn he heard a profanity or two, as you swung the door open. You had a line of flour on your cheek, and your hair was tied up in a messy bun. The dress you wore was mint, with a peter-pan collar; and a floral apron tied around your waist. Your face was flushed, as you looked at Legolas, and then back up to Thranduil.

“…Hi!” You finally said, as you looked up at Thranduil. He looked down at you, with almost a curious gaze; as the little boy he held on tight to Thranduils neck.You weren’t aware that he had a son, due to the fact that he didn’t wear a ring on his finger. “Hi,” Thranduil greeted, in return. “I’m sorry I’m late, I tried calling. As you can see, I had to make a little pit stop.”

The little blonde boy just gave a shy smile, and clutched his Superman to his chest.

Smiling at the little boy, he just hugged his fathers neck, as Thranduil let out a light laugh. It was strange, coming from him; he always seemed so professional. It was the lighthearted smile he gave to his son, that made you melt. You could tell, that there was nothing more he loved in the world — than his son.

“Oh god, I didn’t even know! I just got um, a little stressed this morning — baking helps me calm down, I must’ve lost track of time.” You explained, as you moved and motioned him to come in. “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Oropherion.”

“It’s quite alright, (y/n).” Thranduil replied, taking in your apartment.

It was quite spacious, for an apartment in the city. Your kitchen is attached to your living room, and he could tell the light blue walls were freshly painted. Thranduil could smell the pies, and had to admit, they _did_ smell pretty damn good. In the kitchen, was a cork board on the wall; with sketches of logos tacked on it, in various fonts and patterns. There were also a few sketches of furniture on paper. Leading him in to the kitchen, you tugged off your apron and set it on the back of a chair.

“I hope you don’t mind Legolas, his nanny was unable to pick him up from daycare.” Thranduil explained.

You waved a hand, and replied,

“Not at all! I got nieces and nephews around his age, I don’t mind.”

Thranduil looked at Legolas, and asked softly,

“Legolas, do you want to watch Zootopia on Ada’s phone?”

He eagerly nodded, as Thranduil asked if it was okay to set him in the living room. Giving him permission, you watched as he walked in to the living room. Kneeling in front of his son on the couch, he got it set up and kissed Legolas on the forehead, before returning to the kitchen.

You offered to make him some coffee or tea, in which he politely requested coffee. As you made the coffee, you began discussing the progress being made, downstairs. You told him that you and Arwen were working hard with Thorin, and that you all get on well. He said that he got a quick glance around when he walked in, but would like to schedule another meeting to get a better look around. The conversation was kept light, as you both sipped your coffee. You discussed how you were almost ready to finalize the menu, and how Arwen was in the process of working with advertising companies around the city.

“Speaking of finalizing the menu, I just finished up some strawberry and cream pie — would you like a slice?” You asked, as you gathered up your empty coffee mugs. After a moments hesitation, Thranduil replied,

“Why not? And if you don’t mind, I’m sure Legolas would like a slice?”

As you cut the pie carefully, you dished up three plates. As you walked in to the living room to give Legolas the pie, Thranduil watched carefully at how you interacted with him. Legolas grinned when he saw the pie, and took a huge bite. With his mouth full, he could hear him tell you, _this is the best pie ever!_ You giggled, as you took your leave of the little boy.

Walking back into your kitchen, Thranduil was already half way done with his slice.

“So, what’s the verdict?” You asked politely, clasping your hands behind your back. As he swallowed, he covered his mouth with his fist as he swallowed.

“I think, that this should be the house special.”

Smiling, you bit your lip to try and stop the faint jolt of excitement you felt in your stomach. It meant a lot, that Thranduil liked your pies. He asked more about your recipes, and how if you were planning on doing specials and whatnot. You discussed happy hours, and how they would come with slices of pie. As time passed, Thranduil didn’t even realize that it almost two o’clock — and that Legolas had fallen asleep on the couch. It wasn’t until you noticed, that Zootopia had the volume turned down.

“I didn’t know you had a son, before today.” You quietly commented, as you both looked at Legolas from the archway connecting with the kitchen. Looking up at Thranduil from the corner of your eye, you saw his lips curve upwards, slightly.

“Not many of my clients get the privilege of meeting him.” He replied, softly. He crossed his arms, looking down at you.

“He looks a lot like you,” you said. “especially with the eyes.”

Thranduil sighed, and looked down at his feet. The words flowed out of his mouth, before he could’ve stopped himself.

“He looks more like his mother.”

Noting the hitch in his breathing, you hesitated whether or not you should press further. They could be divorced, she could be out of the picture… the possibilities were endless. So you settled for simple.

“I bet she’s lovely.”

You pretended to ignore the way his lips tightened, and the way his jaw clenched.“Yes, she was.”

With that, Thranduil cleared his throat, and turned to fully face you. Holding out his hand, you took it and gave him a handshake.

“I’m pleased to see everything going smoothly, Ms. (y/l/n). I’ll be back next week, same time.”

Retracting your hand, you pushed a stray hair behind your ear as you watched your boss wake his son up, and pick him up in to his arms. Legolas yawned with lethargy, as he buried his face in Thranduils shoulder. Thranduil rubbed his back once, before sliding his ray-bans back on to his nose. As he passed you, you nearly had to sprint to the door to open it up for him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Oropherion!” You exclaimed, as he walked past you. He gave you what seemed to be a callous nod, before stalking down the stairs; leaving you confused, and curious.

It didn’t take long for you to tell Arwen, about your strange meeting with Thranduil. As you told her about bringing up his wife, you felt even _more_ confused as you saw the sadness fill her eyes.

* * *

_(You found out that Mrs. Oropherion was killed in one of the many bank massacres that plagued the cities four years ago. Thranduil was right, she and her son bore many similarities — from the way their noses were shaped to the curve of their lips.)_

_(You couldn’t help but to shed a tear at the many pictures paparazzis took at the funeral.)_

* * *

 The following week came in a quick, as did the next meeting with Thranduil. When he arrived, he had his usual ray-bans on his nose and tablet in his hand; taking notes and pictures of the construction site. As you gave him a little tour of the back, where the kitchen would be, you thought it would be a good opportunity to apologize for the last meeting.

“Uh, Mr. Oropherion?” You asked tentatively, as his gaze flickered up from his tablet to your eyes. Raising a brow, it was his cue for you to continue. “I would like to um, _apologize_ for bringing up your wife last week. I’m so—“

“Enough. I did not come here to discuss things that aren’t meant to be discussed.” He cut you off, in a curt sentence. Furrowing his brow together, he shut his eyes for a moment, before opening them once more and looking at you.

You felt the overwhelming of _guilt_ fill your veins, and you felt horrible for bringing it up.

“Mr. Oropherion, I’m just… I’m just _sorry.”_ You apologized, stumbling to find the right words that could possibly make him feel better. “Arwen told me and—“

“Tell Ms. Undómiel not to mettle in business that’s not hers.” He snapped, venom dripping from his voice. Taking one last look at you and the kitchen, the look on his face was terrifying. His face was tightened, as he just tucked his tablet under his arm and took his leave.

_What had you done?_

* * *

Thranduil had taken it upon himself to visit once a week, to make notes of how everything was going. And when he talked to you, his sentences were clipped and his face was practically unreadable. You hadn’t seen him actually smile, since he came that one day with Legolas. Arwen, was confused — as he was being actually _polite_ to her. He had even _smiled_ in front of her.

She tried to reassure you that he’d warm up to you again, but you didn’t believe that. You had crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed, and you couldn’t help but feel the giant elephant in the room _every time_ you spoke with him.

* * *

 Eight weeks, have come and gone. Eight weeks, of Thranduil mulling over his attitude with you.

Thranduil had forgotten the last time he had spoken of his wife, to anyone that wasn’t his therapist. After Thranduil gathered his shit together after she had died, he had placed himself in therapy sessions to help his stress levels. He thought that it would be strange; telling a complete outsider about his inner thoughts, but turns out — it had helped him immensely.

His therapist, Galadriel, was a wise woman who had been in the field for years. She was best in the city, and as always, Thranduil settled for nothing less that the best. He cut his sessions down from three times a week to only one, so that’s how he found himself in her neat office; discussing the topic of the girl who had been plaguing his mind for the past few weeks.

“Have you considered, Thranduil, that she was only trying to apologize for making you uncomfortable?” Galadriel commented, looking up from her notebook. Thranduil just huffed, and took a sip of his coffee.

“I have. But that doesn’t make up for the fact that her, and Arwen, were discussing things that does not concern them.” He replied, as Galadriel nodded. There was a silence, before Galadriel continued with a pressing statement.

“Talking about the ones we’ve lost proves to help, Thranduil,” at this, Thranduil scoffed lightly — but Galadriel continued. “especially if the memories you speak of are in positive connotations.”

Leaning his head down, Thranduil gripped his mug as he shut his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Letting out a breathy laugh, Thranduil — for once — allowed himself to think of his wife.

“I just… I just feel… _guilty.”_ He replied, as Galadriel noted down his body movements.

“Why is that?” She questioned further.

“This girl, (y/n). She’s like no one I’ve ever met before. There is something about her that makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time,” Thranduil answered, in honesty. “The last time I felt an attraction this strong was to my wife.”

Thranduil couldn’t help but to tear his gaze away from Galadriel, shielding his glassy eyes from her.

“Feeling the guilt is normal, but feeling an attraction to someone is normal too,” Galadriel started. “this girl you speak of — (y/n) — what is stopping you?”

“It’s… it would be _inappropriate._ Not only because of our work relationship, but.. she’s _young._ She’s young and there are just too many complications.” He thought out loud, as if he was trying to convince _himself._

“Seems to me, that you don’t entirely believe that.” Galadriel answered. “Thranduil, your wife wouldn’t want you to dwell on her for the rest of your life. She would want you to put _yourself_ first, for once. C’mon, Thranduil. Accept (y/n)’s apology. Take her out, send her flowers, whatever! You _deserve_ to feel love, again — whether you think so or not.”

And at that moment, Thranduil was at a conflict with himself — he was _afraid._ He was afraid because he had guarded his heart like a king defending his kingdom. Thranduil wasn’t sure if he was ready to give in to what he was truly feeling, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to put himself _and_ you at risk for what could happen in your professional careers.

But most of all, Thranduil was afraid that he had already lost you — before he even had you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SUCK. IT'S BEEN OVER A MONTH AND I'M SO SORRY. 
> 
> i just really have had this idea stuck in my head and wanted to do the previous chapters justice! special shoutout to my friend annie, who helped me get through writers block at two a.m. by sending me pictures of lee.
> 
> this isn't edited, seeing as i wrote so much of it last night at two a.m. in a moment of creativity. sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> also,seems that i forgot to state that there is an age difference between reader and thrandy. reader is around 25-27, whilst thranduil is at least 35-38. up to interpretation. <3

It became routine for you to make the boys lunch, and eat with them as well.

Bringing down tupperwear filled with pasta and other goodies, Kíli and Fíli made a small cheering noise and took them from your hands.

“y/n, you’re truly a _god_ at cooking.” Fíli complimented, shoving spoonfuls of the pasta in his mouth. Kíli seconded that, as he shoved a cookie in his mouth. You laughed, and took a swig of your soda.

“Gotta take care of my boys!” You exclaimed, as Arwen joined the three of you at the table.

As lunch progressed, Kíli and Fíli got into a heated debate about who played a better Batman: Bale or Affleck. Just when Arwen sided with Bale and Fíli, the conversation came to a sudden silence as someone knocked on the glass door. All four heads turned, to see a bored-looking teenager holding a bouquet of Peonies, clipboard in hand.

Nodding towards the door, you commented,

“Arwen, looks like Aragorn pulled through!”

She just rolled her eyes, and pulled herself up and strode to the door, opening it up.

“Hi!” Arwen greeted, as the teenager held out the flowers.

“Delivery for a Miss y/n (y/l/n)?” She questioned, causing Fíli and Kíli to direct their curiosity towards you.

“I thought you were single!” Fíli exclaimed, as Kíli laughed.

“Keep tellin’ ya, Fí, a girl like y/n wouldn’t go for you.”

Fíli shoved his brother, as Arwen turned and signaled for you to come sign for the flowers. Feeling a blush creep up to your cheeks, you stood and signed for the flowers. Thanking the teenager, she left.

“Should’ve known it wasn’t for me! I was about to text Aragorn, thanking him!” Arwen commented, as you breathed in the floral scent. They were absolutely _gorgeous._

“Who do you think they’re from?” You questioned, holding up the flowers to look for a card. Arwen plucked a pink card out of the paper, and waved it around; a playful taunt. Setting the flowers down on the table, you snatched it from her, and opened up the delicate card.

In elegant cursive, it read,

 

**_y/n,_ **

 

**_I’m sorry._ **

 

**_Thranduil Oropherion_ **

* * *

 From that day on, it seemed as if an armistice was formed between you and Thranduil.

Every time he came to see the progress, or if you had a financial meeting, he seemed to be less tense and more carefree. You even got to hear him _laugh._ And, surprisingly, little Legolas seemed to make a few cameos at the office. ( _You’d occasionally sneak him a few cookies, just because you’re a sucker for those blue eyes.)_ Thranduil, of course noticed, but didn’t make any attempts to stop because he liked to admire how happy it made his son. There were times in which he’d stop by the construction site, with coffee for the whole crew. He’d give you yours, and slip you a little paper bag that held your favorite baked good. You always gave him a big smile and thanked him,

As months came and went, Thranduil found himself turning down businesses that were planning on locating next to _The Pie Bar._ Was it an asshole thing to do? Probably, but he kept trying to tell himself that it was for the better of his company. The less competition, the more money. It was _definitely_ not because of the pretty girl who baked pies and wore cute dresses. _Certainly not_.

Arwen and you were as busy as ever, as opening night crawled near. You both spent hours on end helping out with the construction, going as far as to paint the walls yourselves. The Durins were eager for your help, and you all created fun memories together that involved crude jokes and taste testing drinks.

* * *

Between trying to scrub off paint from your skin and sending out invitations to your friends, the night before opening was _finally_ upon you. With some much convincing from Arwen, she had _somehow_ convinced you to hand-deliver Thranduil’s invitation to his office. (‘ _C’mon, y/n. It’ll make it a little more personal.’)_

So that’s how you ended up in the large edifice of Oropherion Investments, with a slice of strawberry pie and a fancy invitation in hand. It was nearing five o’clock, which meant that most of the employees were off. You got some curious looks, as men left the elevator; your light pink dress a sharp contrast to the slick black of the suits. You bit your lower lip to hide a small smile, finding the situation risible.

After a too-long elevator ride, you finally got to the top floor. When you exited, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Tauriel, her auburn hair tied back in a braid. When you cleared your throat at her desk, she looked up from her work and gave you a big smile.

“Hello again, Ms. (y/l/n)! Are you looking for Mr. Oropherion?” She asked cheerfully, standing to shake your hand. You took her hand, and greeted her back.

“Yep!” You affirmed. “Is he in his office?”

“Of course, it’s practically his second home,” She replied, with a wink. “I’ll call him, and let him know you’re coming in.”

As she went to reach for the phone, you stopped her before she could pick it up.

“Ah — I want it to be a surprise. Is that okay?” You asked, as she gave you a smirk.

“Only if you give me a piece of that world famous pie, I keep hearing about!”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you slipped her a piece of pie. Giving you a content smile, she gestured you towards the sleek black doors. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out your dress and made way to the doors.

Slightly opening the door, you knocked softly and poked your head through the door. Thranduil stood with his body facing the large window, holding his phone to his ear as he cocked his head to look at who _dared_ to intrude into his office without his prior knowledge.

Bards voice on the other end of the receiver seemed to fade away as he was greeted to your smiling face, with that little blush he had grown accustomed to. Fully turning, Thranduil motioned for you to sit at one of the plush seats in front of his desk. Closing his door, you approached his desk. Setting down the tupperware on top of his desk, you set the invitation on top of the tupperware. Thranduil raised his brow in curiosity, and began to wrap up his conversation with Bard. Hanging up, Thranduil set his phone down, and walked in front of his desk, extending his hand to you.

“This is strange. No one gets past Tauriel.” He stated with a grin, as you took his hand. Leaning backwards on his desk, he retracted his hand. Laughing lightly, you replied,

“What can I say, I do have a way with words. And with my baking skills.”

Smiling at this, Thranduil laughed.

“Now that, I can’t argue with,” he answered, picking up the tupperware and card. “what do we have here?”

“It’s an invitation, for tomorrow. Thought I would hand deliver it, along with a piece of pie.” You answered, as you watched him examine the card. After a moments silence, he met your gaze.

“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You pretended to ignore the way your heart seemed to jump at his words.

Brushing a stray hair behind your ear, you add,

“If you want, you can bring Bard, Tauriel, or anyone, really. The more the merrier!”

“I’ll inform them, for sure.”

The two of you kept up a light conversation as Thranduil ate the pie, discussing the bands playing tomorrow. You found out that he prefers indie music to alternative, and even told you that he plays piano and guitar. Joking around, you told him that he should play sometime. He just tuts playfully, and retorts that he’ll play as long as you sing.

After finishing his pie, you stood, looping your purse around your arm. Giving him a smile, you hold out your hand once more to him. His large hands engulf yours, as he gives it a steady shake.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Mr. Oropherion.” You say, as he pulls his hand back and shoves it into his pocket.

“Goodbye, Ms. (y/l/n). Looking forward to it.”

With one last once over of the CEO, you take your leave — feeling the heat of his gaze follow you.

* * *

When Thranduil, Bard, and Tauriel arrived at _The Pie Bar,_ saying that it was crowded would be an understatement. He could hear the band playing from outside, and a cacophony of patrons cheering and bustling about. It took the trio nearly ten minutes to find parking, which resulted in them having to walk a block just to get to the lively building. Upon entering, they were greeted with the _mouthwatering_ smell of pies. The band was in full swing, as they began their next song; some upbeat cover a love song, which the crowd cheered for.

Tauriel and Bard excused themselves to the bar, and Thranduil informed them that he was going to find you and Arwen. They both gave each other a smirk, and Thranduil pretended to ignore them. If it were anyone else, he’d snark at them. But because they’ve known each other for years and consider each other friends, he let it slide.

Making his way through the crowd of drunks and dancing couples, he found himself in the little dining area. Observing the area, he almost turned back to go find Bard and Tauriel — that was, until he heard your laugh echo to his ears. He turns his head to find you with your head tipped back, laughing at something one of your friends had said. Arwen was at the table, with what looked like her boyfriend on her arm. Fíli and Kíli were also at the table, bellowing with laughter as well. There were empty glasses and dishes on the table, that were quickly whisked away by some employees. Thranduil wiped his clammy hands (when did they become clammy?) on his pants, and took note at how _beautiful_ you looked.

Switching out one of your casual dresses for a more fancy little black dress, it had an almost _too low_ dip that showed off ample cleavage. Your hair was in loose waves and your lips were painted a deep red, that caused Thranduil’s breathing to falter. You were simply breathtaking.

Thranduil took a deep breath, and took a few steps to the table. When you saw him approach, you smiled brightly and stood.

“Mr. Oropherion! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t break my promise. Bard and Tauriel are at the bar, making themselves at home.” He greeted, as Arwen cleared her throat.

Turning on your heel, you placed a hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, and introduced him to Aragorn. You all laughed as Aragorn and Thranduil began shooting the breeze, joking around about who’s investment company is better. You invited Thranduil to sit, and with a wave of your hand, an employee came with a plate of different colored drinks. Everyone took a glass, and before everyone took a sip, Arwen and Aragorn badgered you to make a little speech.

“Alright, alright, I will!” Standing, you held your drink in your hand. “As cheesy as it might sound, I never thought that my roommate from college would make such an impact on my life. If it wasn’t for that god-awful business class, we wouldn’t be standing here today.” At this, Aragorn pressed a kiss to Arwens cheek, making her blush. Taking a split second look at Thranduil, you gave him a soft smile, before adding,

“We also wouldn’t be here without the help from Mr. Oropherion, and his business. So let’s make this night, a night to remember!”

Clinking your glasses together, Thranduil leaned over to make sure you heard him over the music.

“Congratulations, y/n.”

You pulled back, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. It was the first time he had used your first name. As you looked at Thranduil, it seemed as if the bass of the music and the rumble of people melted away; as if the only thing that was in the building was just the two of you. The using of your first name made everything a little more personal.

Downing the rest of your drink for a little more confidence, you leaned into his ear and asked,

“Can I show you something?”

For a little more convincing, you daringly placed your hand on his that was currently resting on his thigh. Thranduil’s gaze didn’t even flicker to your hand, but instead kept eye contact. Swallowing the rest of his drink, he stood, lacing his hand with yours. Due to the fact that you had chosen flats, you were even more shorter compared to him than usual; and maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt a slight dizzy feeling just from the feeling of his long fingers keeping a grip on yours. Going into the back, you led him up the metal spiral staircase to your apartment. As you fumbled with the key, Thranduil laughed.

“Need some help?”

You looked over your shoulder and gave him a sour look, no real venom behind it. That caused him to chuckle, as you finally managed to open the damn door. Walking into your dark apartment, Thranduil raised a brow.

“Where are you taking me, y/n?”

You smirked, and nodded towards the fire escape.

“Follow me, and you’ll find out.”

With that, you opened up the window, and shouted, _c’mon!_ As you climbed through the window, your dress was riding up, which caused Thranduil to blush and look away. He followed, and climbed through the window and out into the cold weather. You had already climbed the short ladder onto the roof; leaning your head over the side.

“C’mon, old man.” You winked, as Thranduil let out a chuckle. Climbing up the ladder, he was greeted to the sight of you, facing towards the edge of the roof, admiring the twinkling lights of the city.

All along the roof, there were fairy lights strung along the edges. It illuminated the roof with a dull yellow glow, but most of all, it illuminated your silhouette. For the second time that night, you took away Thranduil’s breath. Walking towards you, you felt the chill wind pick up speed, causing your curls to loosen and goosebumps to rise. Instinctively, Thranduil shrugged off his jacket and placed it upon your shoulders. You thanked him quietly, and put your arms through the holes; reveling in how it smelled of him.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You spoke, quietly.

Thranduil wasn’t admiring the city, he was admiring _you._ Without missing a beat, he replied,

“It is, it really is.”

“When I was younger, I lived in midtown. It was a pretty shitty apartment,” you started with a laugh. “but it was home. Whenever my mom started arguing with her boyfriend, I’d climb up the fire escape and just sit on the roof and look at the lights. God, I could stay up there for hours. Some of my best teenage memories were made up there. That’s where Arwen and I would sit and drink wine she took from Elrond. That’s where I would hold sleepovers. Even had my first kiss up on that roof.”

At this point, Thranduil had leaned against the cement railing of the roof. He looked up at you, and it was as if he could feel your emotions pour into his own. You were just being so _vulnerable_ with him. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t confused. It had been so long since someone had confided in him.

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked softly.

You laughed, as if the answer was obvious.

“Because I think… I think you need to trust yourself. You should take risks, you should put yourself out there! You were given one life, and you should live it to the fullest,” You rambled, crossing your arms around your chest. When Thranduil didn’t answer, you ran a hand through your unruly hair. Had you gone too far? “I guess what I’m trying to get at is—“ You started, before you watched him stand.

Thranduil didn’t say anything, but instead opted to take a step towards you. Raising his hand, he used his pointer finger and thumb to gently tilt your chin upwards. It’s a gesture that causes your skin to break out in goosebumps and a myriad of butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Your gazes don’t falter, as he takes another step forward, so close that you seemed to forget the loud bass of the band below and the bustle of the city sounds around you. Bringing your hand up to his, you lightly wrapped your hand around his wrist.

“What… what are you doing?” You said, barely a whisper.

Thranduil just let out a breathy laugh, and replied,

“Taking a risk.”

And with that, he leaned down; thumb pulling down lightly on your chin to part your lips. His lips were soft and tentative, as if he was testing the waters. You let go of your grip on his wrist, and decided to slip both of your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, losing yourself into the feeling of his lips on yours. He pulled back so that your foreheads were resting against one another. You were the one to break the silence with a light laugh, that had Thranduil’s heart skip a beat because _gods,_ you were gorgeous when you laughed.

You were the one to move next, stepping up on your tippy toes to kiss him again; this time, with more zeal. He immediately reciprocated, and happily accepts when your tongue prodded against his lower lip. When your tongue first slid against his, Thranduil couldn’t help but let out a low groan that sends vibrations right down to your core. And even more so, when you felt his blunt nails against the back of your neck as he tugged you _impossibly closer_ to him. The two of you moved against one each other with more fervor after a couple moments, Thranduil even pulling back from your lips to press kisses along your jaw and down to the dip of your shoulder. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he let his teeth graze against the sensitive skin, causing you to gasp as he lightly bit down. His tongue immediately ran over the mark, soothing in nature as you slid your hands through his silky hair.

“ _Thranduil…_ ” you said, barely above a whisper. He hummed quietly against your skin, before moving to cup your face in his large hands; leaning his forehead against yours.

Those hauntingly blue eyes that always held such solemn, was in that moment filled with such tenderness that it made the situation much more intimate. His thumb drew light circles along the artery in your neck, whilst the other cradled your jaw with gentleness. His tongue swiped his lower lip, before he asked,

“Do you want me?”

You both knew the answer, but you had a hunch that this was Thranduils insecurity settling in; being that he hasn’t slept with anyone since his wife.

“Yeah _,”_ you whispered, before pulling on the nape of his neck to brush your lips against his. “I want you, Thranduil.”

He gave you a sliver of a smile, akin to a child who got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing — before he kissed you again. This time though, it was a little less innocent, and a little less mindful as his tongue pushed past your lips. It was as if your words gave him the confidence he needed, to let himself just get _lost_ in you.

You could’ve been making out with him up there for minutes or hours, really; with him, time seemed to slow down. There was a point, though, in which you could tell that him hunching over to kiss you was uncomfortable — so you opted to back him up until he was seated on the cement railing. You stepped in between his spread legs and continued kissing him, as Thranduil let his hand slide down to cup your ass. You groaned into his mouth, as he squeezed. You could literally feel all ten of his fingers pressing against you; it wouldn’t be surprising to see if red marks formed. Once you felt his bulge against your thigh, you pulled away from the CEO; gasping lightly into his mouth.

“y/n, shall we move this downstairs?” He asked softly, fingertips grazing along your collarbones. “I’m afraid that if you keep kissing me like this, we’ll fall right over.”

At this you laughed, and he stood. Between sneaking kisses and laughing at your clumsiness, you somehow safely climbed down the ladder and through the window. When Thranduil climbed through, he surprised you by taking two long steps to you; and bending down, prompting you to jump up into his long arms. His large hands pretty much cup your ass as you smile into the kiss, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“Which, way?” he asked, breathless.

“First one down the hall.” You directed, nipping at his neck.

In no time at all, he made his way to your room. Sitting on the edge of your bed, your knees hit your mattress as you pulled back from him. With a small enticing smile, you pushed his chest just hard enough for him to land on his elbows; looking up at you with his jaw clenching, and unclenching.

“Careful, little one.” He smiled, his fingertips trailing up your bare thighs. As you moved your hands behind you to pull your dress zipper down.

“Or what?” you taunted, as you fumbled with the metal. “You going to use your CEO voice on me?”

He scoffed playfully, gripping your thighs.

“You’re the one being a little _tease_ , with that dress…” he began to scold, until you moved to lift up your dress; leaving Thranduil lost for words.

You forewent a bra that night, because of the style of dress you wore, revealing pert breasts. You were about to say something snarky back, until he lurched forward, almost causing you to stumble backwards. His hands were instantly at your chest, as his tongue met yours. You gasped lightly as he gave them a squeeze, testing your reaction. Swiping his thumbs across your nipples, you pulled back from his lips and let out a louder moan; head tipping back, grateful for the bar music downstairs. He licked a white-hot stripe down your neck and down to your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth. As his tongue swiped across your nipple, it felt as if your whole body was a pulsing nerve — responding to his touch instantaneously.

Your fingers pressed into the nape of his neck, pressing him into your body. All too soon you felt your panties getting damper, seeking out friction. And before you could stop the idea in your mind, your hips began to rock back and forth onto his crotch. With a growl, Thranduil pulled back from your chest and kissed from your chin to your lips, his hands finding their home on your hips.

“Like this?” Was all he said, pressing your hips harder onto his crotch.

“Mhmm.” you groaned in approval, not being able to focus on making a coherent word. Letting out a light ‘tsk’ sound, Thranduil retracted his hand from your backside; and bringing it back down. It wasn’t hard, but it was definitely enough to make your abdomen burn in need, and to elicit an almost pornographic moan from your lips.

When Thranduil began to actually _feel_ your arousal soaking onto his pants, he gripped your hips and began moving you at his own pace; _wanton_ and _fast_. And as the coil in your stomach _tightened and tightened_ so did his grip, and it felt as if all the air in your lungs was escaping — and with a high pitched moan, the coil snapped and your orgasm washed over you; white and hot, gasping for air as Thranduil whispered incoherent words in your ear.

It was an effort to get your shit together, even with the help of Thranduil. When you finally caught your breath, you pulled your face from his shoulder. You must’ve looked like a _hot ass mess,_ hair everywhere and with a blush extending to your chest. Running your thumb over his plush lower lip, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Made a mess outta me, and you’re not even naked,” you crooned, moving your fingers to the buttons of his ill-fitting dress shirt. “think we should change that.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” he replied softly, watching your deft fingers. Pushing off his shirt, he shuddered as you ran your fingers over his smooth skin, down to his expensive belt.

“Sorry about the pants,” you apologized shyly, making quick work of his belt. Thranduil just pushed excess hair out of your face, and cupped your jaw; pressing an almost chaste kiss to your lips.

“Don’t be, you almost had me cumming in my pants like a 16 year old.” He replied cooly, which made you just lurch forward to kiss him again, nearly ripping off his belt.

Before you could yank down his pants, Thranduil’s massive hands were back at your waist and flipping you onto your back, bouncing once you hit the mattress. He easily squirmed between your legs, kissing every inch of your torso. When he began descending, you let out whimper as his fingers traced over the lace of your underwear.

“So fucking wet,” he said lowly, almost to himself. You had never heard him swear before, and by _god,_ was it the hottest thing to grace your ears. “and it’s all for me. All for me, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good, darling.”

With that, Thranduil hooked his fingers into the flimsy lace of the underwear, and tugged them down with haste. You felt so fucking _giddy_ as he hooked his arms underneath your knees, hands coming to rest on your hipbones as he began pressing open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. With every nip and kiss you wondered if it was possible to get even _more_ turned on than you already were, because you honestly felt as if you were going to cum again from just his lips. Canting your hips to get him to where you want, he pressed your hipbones back down to the mattress, and you wondered if he knew you were squirmy; and that’s why he put his hands there to begin with.

“I swear to god if you don’t —“ your snarky comment got cut off my Thranduil licking a thick stripe up your cunt, eliciting a high pitched whine from you; your hands instantly gripping the bedsheets.

He hummed, what you presumed was a laugh, but the vibrations just felt so _good_ as he continued his ministrations. He lapped and lapped at you, and once he sealed his lips around your clit, you almost didn’t even _feel_ him slide two thick fingers into you, that’s how wet you were. You accommodated him quickly, the intrusion stretching you nicely. You winced a little as he removed his lips from your clit, moving his thumb to rub slick circles on the sensitive flesh. At this point, moans mixed with his name were falling out of your mouth like a fucking prayer, another impeding orgasm working itself throughout your veins.

“C’mon, darling,” Thranduil urged, his thumb moving faster. “Cum for me, be a good girl.”

That was all it took to bring you to your second release of the night, your body spasming in bliss as you grinded against his fingers, profanities slipping from your mouth. He didn’t stop there, though. Thranduil just slipped his fingers out of you, and slipped his fingers under your ass; actually lifting you so that your bottom half was lifted from the mattress, legs draping over his shoulders. It was such a show of sheer strength that your thighs literally fucking _trembled,_ as you let out a surprised squeak. He just smirked and latched himself back onto your cunt, fingers pressing into the curve of your ass — holding you right where he wants you.

And it was almost too much, almost too much that tears actually pricked at the corner of your eyes — hands fisting the sheets like they were your anchor to reality. You were already sensitive from the two previous orgasms that you were already practically already cumming once again. One, two, three licks was really all it took for you to crumble and practically _scream_ as the third orgasm took hold of you. It was just as intense as the last two, and you were writhing even as Thranduil finally set you back down on the mattress, kissing back up your chest and to your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“You’re so fucking good to me,” Thranduil cooed, pressing feather like kisses along your face, as you regained your breath. “Such a good girl.”

You just lurched forward to give him a bruising kiss, fingers going straight to his pants because _fuck, if you don’t get those down you’re going to explode._ You felt his smile against your lips as he moves your trembling hands from his groin, and leaned you back onto the bed. You watched as his thick fingers pushed down the zipper, and as he kicked off both pants and briefs to reveal his long, leaking member to you. You instantly wanted to just flip the two of you and suck him _dry,_ but Thranduil had a good read on you and just leaned down over you to say,

“Another time, I promise. I’ve been wanting to be inside you for _months.”_

 _The mouth on this man!_ It was silent for a moment, save for the heavy panting between the both of you. It took you a second to actually bring yourself to formulate a sentence. Taking a piece of his long hair, you twisted it around your forefinger with a smile.

“Then what are you waiting for, old man?”

Thranduil just smiled so fucking wide, it seemed so out of character for him but you didn’t care; in that moment, he looked _happy_ and _beautiful_ and you just couldn’t help but to laugh and smile with him, his hand going down to grip himself. You dragged him down to your face, pressing kisses along his jaw and chin; moaning quietly when the head of his cock ran across your slit. He kept up this teasing for a couple seconds, spreading your wetness on to him. You nearly cried out as the head nudged your clit, causing you to dig your nails into his broad shoulders. And _finally,_ he slipped himself inside with one thrust; bottoming out as both of your chests began to heave up and down.

The stretch was a little uncomfortable, due to his size — but thankfully, you were wet enough to take him. Thranduil gave you a bruising kiss, taking your hands and lacing them with his on either sides of your head.

“Okay?” He muttered into your ear, sucking a mark under the lobe.

“ _Move,”_ you replied, almost a little too quickly.

Thranduil just let out a breathy laugh, and finally began rocking into you. You just felt so incredibly _tight_ and _warm_ and he knew he could cum from just that; but he wanted this to be good for you, and willed the burning in his lower abdomen away. Ghosting his lips over your shoulder, he began to fully pull out and snap his hips to yours, setting up a somewhat rough pace. Due to the three previous orgasms, you weren’t even sure you could cum for a fourth; but you knew Thranduil would get you there.

With every thrust, he drew out of you moans and screams alike. You were surprised at how vocal he was, whispering things you wouldn’t dream of him saying. His moans would bubble low from his throat and you would swallow them with your kisses, tongues moving together like they were supposed to. At one point you caught his lower lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough to draw a little blood. Thranduil just growled something akin to ‘ _fuck, that’s hot’_ and kissed you so hard you tasted the bitter metallic in your mouth.

Your nails dug lines into his back as he rocked harder into you, dragging down to grab at his ass; causing him to falter a bit, not expecting that from you. Thranduil bit down on your shoulder in admonishment, eliciting a high pitched gasp from you. It didn’t take long after that for the heat in your stomach to return, growing hotter and hotter as he hit that special spot inside of you.

“ _Fuck,_ Thranduil… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped out against his lips, in an almost frantic tone. He just hummed against your skin and let his deft fingers rub the sensitive flesh of your clit, bringing you back to the fire from the beginning of the night.

His movements were quick and you were sensitive, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut and give into the flames; burning hot all over your body, Thranduils fingers still idly circling against you. He removed his fingers from you and instantaneously brought his lips back to yours, hand pawing at your chest. He was so fucking close, you could tell by the way his hips slowed and he hit that spot deep within you.Stilling against you, Thranduil squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to get himself together. Gasping heavily, he managed to formulate a sentence.

“Where, can I cum?”

At this, the image of him filling your mouth had you instantly pushing up on his shoulders to flip the two of you; his painfully hard cock pulling out of you. He let out a pleasured sigh as you licked a line down his lithe stomach, your hand moving to grip the base of his cock. Normally, you would’ve teased him until he was begging — but you knew that he needed his release just as much as you did. So you wasted no time in taking his length in your mouth, taking him as deep as you could.All Thranduil could do was let out a choked moan, gathering your hair out of your face as you bobbed up and down. When you moved your hand gripping him down to his sac where you kneaded gently, was all it took for Thranduil to release. With him deep in your throat, you greedily drank every single drop.

Still absentmindedly running your mouth around his cock, you finally pulled back as you felt his grip on your hair loosen. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you gasped as Thranduil swiftly pulled you back up to him; giving you an open mouthed kiss, arms winding around your torso — you were skin to skin and you still felt the need to be closer.

Pulling back from him, you just rested your head in his shoulder, fingers stroking through the locks of his hair. His fingers traced small patterns on your back, and his lips pressed kisses on the crown of your head. You let you hands travel down to his chest, where you drummed lightly against his pectoral muscles. In that moment, Thranduil felt something he thought he could never feel again.

“What are you thinking?” You asked softly, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him. Thranduil gave a sigh of content, pushing the slightly damp hair out of your eyes.

“A multitude of things, little one,” he answered, as you moved to kiss his jaw. “If I tell you, will you promise not to run for the hills?”

You could sense the insecurity in his voice. You didn’t want him to feel that way around you, ever — so you nodded immediately.

“You can tell me anything y’know, Thranduil. You can trust me.” You assured him. “I mean, you were just inside of me.”

At this, Thranduil let out a lighthearted chuckle, a blush coming to his cheeks.“Seriously though, you can trust me.” You added, wanting to hear what he had to say.

“Darling, I… I think,” he stammered, trying to find the correct word choice. “I think I may be falling for you.”

Your heart faltered at his words, and a smile tugged at your lips — immediately crushing him in a messy and passionate kiss, tongues moving together. Pulling back breathless, you leaned your forehead against his, giving him his favorite smile of yours.

“It’s about damn time, old man.”


End file.
